


Black Pudding

by HighVelocity



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-06
Updated: 2012-01-06
Packaged: 2017-10-29 02:01:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/314619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HighVelocity/pseuds/HighVelocity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Wait, you want me to put what in my what now??"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black Pudding

"Hey. Graham. I gotta question..."   
  
Lennox swung into the kitchen with a smirk, one that shifted subtly as he grabbed a chair and deposited himself rather ungracefully into it. He crossed his arms on the backrest, cocking an eyebrow at the remains of a full english breakfast that Graham was steadily working through.    
  
The SAS captain was unfazed.   
  
"Oh, really? Out with it then," he replied, forking up the remaining baked beans.    
  
"Yeah, okay. First things first. That thing over there, what the hell's that?" Lennox pointed over at a mass of black sitting on Graham's plate, taking the opportunity to steal a bit of sausage.    
  
"What, this? Black pudding?"   
  
"... wait, pudding? Like, a sweet? Are you sure?"   
  
"Yes. No," the Brit laughed, making as though he'd stab the Major's hand with his fork if he stole any more of his breakfast. "God damn it, Lennox, get your own food. Don't you get fed?"   
  
"Sure I do, I just like, you know. Coming in to bug you." The Ranger smiled brilliantly. "Also force of habit."   
  
"One dollar for everytime Sarah's caught you stealing food, and I'd be a rich man, I'm sure. Well try the black pudding then."   
  
Lennox eyed it dubiously. "You sure?"   
  
"Very."    
  
"I don't trust that smirk."   
  
"Hmm?"   
  
Aura of innocence... damn the Brit. Lennox stared at him with narrowed eyes, not quite sure if he should trust the offered fork. "Sure? You ain't gonna flatten me, put me in a headlock, poison me or anything like that?"   
  
"No I wouldn't, no, you would probably throw me over your shoulder, and no, this is my breakfast, you sod." Graham's voice vibrated with amusement as he leant back from the table. "Serious. Go on. Try that. Black pudding."   
  
"What doesn't kill you..." muttered the Ranger, taking the fork and poking around at it. It crumbled under the tines, and he squinted at the dark mass perched on the silverware. "Oh, hell." Leaning forward, he nibbled experimentally. Okay, not too bad, though it seemed to be pretty rich. Salty, greasy, fatty, and crumbly. And definitely not sweet. What the hell?   
  
"This stuff's pretty heavy," he commented, eyeing the other man. "What the hell kind of pudding is this? Sure as heck ain't sweet."   
  
"I told you what it was."   
  
"Yeah, sure, you said it was black pudding, very descriptive, but didn't mention what it's _made_  of."   
  
"Oh dear. Indeed I didn't. You want to know?"   
  
Oh, hell. Lennox stared at the SAS, fork still in hand.   
  
"Matthew Graham, what the hell did you just feed me?"   
  
"William Lennox. I didn't  _feed_  you anything, I offered, you nicked my breakfast. What you just ate was black pudding. It's a sausage, made of oatmeal, spices, and... blood."   
  
"... oh god, you  _freak_ ." Lennox bent over to the side, making mock-gagging sounds as Graham's innocent choirboy expression finally cracked, the man doubled over and laughing hard. "Jesus! You're one fucking evil man, know that. Gaaaah."    
  
"Suck it up, Lennox, you've eaten worse, I'm sure. This is nothing. It doesn't even taste like blood."   
  
"Asshole." He straightened up, face flushed. Just for that, he stole the last slice of bacon from Graham's plate, the Ranger's scowl fighting with a grin.    
  
"Yeah, okay, admittedly... it wasn't too bad. Still. Next time warn a guy, you jerk."   
  
The corners of Graham's eyes crinkled. "Don't lose that memo."


End file.
